The Beautiful kiss of ghosts

       There were ghosts

      I felt them give me kisses

     of the quickest, ( sweetest ) silver fire

    my ephemera, a barrier to contact

   my untouchable void

  a thing to nurture

the fingers of fog     caressing,

 tickling, teasing      sending ice

  cold shivers down spine

   the scent of the lipstick of moondust

    A lizard  - tipped tongue away

     to taste the past

      his/her/his    story    the rotting carcass

       atrocities gone and still

to come of wrongs and wronger

 getting badder by the blood

  the kiss of ghosts

   like a shakira wind sandpapering

    doves and pigeons to blood

                                        stained bone

and finer still

  an artisan at work

    and bone becomes a flute

      that sings ( in feather dust )

         the beautiful kiss 

                                         of ghosts.

Reviews

[barleygirl]

You can make the creepiest things sound delectable! Another topsy-turvy pile-up of intensity that makes me wonder which way is up and which is down. I love how your message harkens to our relationship with the dark side, how interesting & intriguing it can be, how necessary, how irresistible (((HUGS))) Fondly, Margie

[gram linski]

haha, you make my poem sound like dark chocolate, no bad thing, thanks, Margie, aye there are things overlapping and intertwining beyond out ken, I'm sure yo have felt it up on those mountains, hugs back at ya, take care,